


Four String Fantasy

by MadAndy



Category: Iron Maiden
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:51:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadAndy/pseuds/MadAndy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first British female Iron Maiden tribute band have a hugely successful gig; and their bassist's night is completed when her counterpart from the real band shows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four String Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Although this tale features characters that share an awful lot of characteristics with the individuals who go to make up the featured rock band, it isn't them. I'm fully aware of that fact; they're completely their own people, and this is a fantasy based on their stage personas, interviews and other material in the public domain. No malice or impeachment is intended to the band, their families, friends, management companies or anyone else involved with them in any way, shape or form. No money is being made from this tale, it's written purely for the enjoyment of the author...and her readers. 
> 
> It's fiction. Enjoy it as such.
> 
> This piece was written in 2004. Would I write it this way now? No, probably not. I was in a very different headspace back then, and it shows - this piece is nothing if not naive. But it's still rather fun, and I remember it with some fondness.

**_Four String Fantasy_ **

Cambridge Corn Exchange, on a snowy Friday night in January. Anyone walking down the side of the venue couldn't help but hear the thumping beat of the heavy rock music being played inside; in fact, half the city couldn't help but note the crash and thunder of the music being performed enthusiastically within the famous old venue. Many of them might have been surprised, however, to see just exactly who was making all the noise; five women jumping and running, screaming and playing and giving it everything they had in a most unladylike fashion.

Lady Maiden had hit the town. Hard.

Amanda Warrener, lead singer and instigator of the only British female Iron Maiden tribute band, marvelled at the response from the fans. She was, as ever, imitating her hero by racing all over the stage, never standing still for a moment; hurdling the monitors whilst continuing to belt out note-perfect renditions of the Iron's most popular live numbers. The crowd - mostly male, and between eighteen and forty years old - were going insane; out of the corner of her eye she saw her bassist JC pointing her Fender at the crowd, rifle-style, and chuckled quietly to herself as she noted security wrestling an over-enthusiastic fan away from the stage and out the side door. There's always one…

Time for the last song of the set. As 'Aces High' crashed to it's triumphant finale, she swaggered to the front of the stage and propped one foot on the centre stage monitor, leaned forward and eyed the crowd speculatively. The rest of the girls dropped back, grinning at each other; the show was going fantastically well, and the adrenaline surge could have kept them going all night.

"Well then Cambridge," sang Amanda cheerfully, "is it hot enough for ya?"

Their response indicated that not only was it rather warm in there, but that the outfits the ladies were wearing qualified as pretty damn tropical, too. Amanda leaned even further forward, breasts straining at the leather lace up top she was wearing and prompting a flurry of marriage proposals from the front row.

"Here's another for ya then…don't forget, Lady Maiden's gonna get ya…"

And they were off, crashing into the song 'Iron Maiden' and finishing the set in fine style. Lining up along the front of the stage they took their bows, Amanda calling them forward one at a time to receive their individual roars of approval.

"Our talented guitarists…As Dave Murray, Janice 'no relation' Murray!"

The slim redhead stepped forward and swept a low bow before being swung into a tight hug then held by their active lead singer, one arm slung loosely about her friend's neck.

"Adrian Smith's parts - musical ones, that is, boys - performed by our very able Sarah Phillips!"

The short blonde stepped forward and hugged both of them before waving to the crowd, a huge grin plastered across her face.

"Our engine room…JC 'Arry Arris' Taylor, and Cara 'Scary McBrain' Watanabe!"

JC and their half Japanese drummer stepped to the front, the bassist throwing her wet towel to a gaggle of lads who'd been screaming her name all night, and Cara dispensing drumsticks with a grin. She was pretty fair, JC noticed with a laugh; her deceptively powerful slender little arms were managing to get them up into the upper circle as well as almost to the back of the hall.

"My name's Amanda 'Brucie Babe' Warrener. We are Lady Maiden…thank you and goodnight!"

Lining up and bowing, showered with roses and notes and applauded so loudly the roof shook, the five women finally turned and ran offstage to grab a quick drink of something cold before the encore.

Their manager greeted them with a grin.

"Good crowd, ladies?"

JC laughed and swept the little man into a hug. "Absolutely! And who was it didn't want to do this venue?"

He raised his hands to the laughter of the rest of the band. "OK Jase, you've broken the habit of a lifetime; this time I admit it, you were right and I was wrong."

"I think we'd better get back out there," grinned Cara, peeking through the gap in the amps at the crowd, "'cos I think the natives are getting restless."

"Don't I get another hug first?" Asked their manager plaintively. JC cuffed him.

"Pervert."

"Run To The Hills then Running Free, right?" Said Amanda, narrowing her eyes speculatively at the screaming crowd.

"Gotcha," replied the other four, bracing themselves.

"Go!" She yelled, and the five women ran back out on stage to the loudest roar they'd received for a while. Laughing and lapping up the adoration, they swung into their encore.

*

Relaxing after the show, all five were still on a high. Understandable; this was the first tour they'd done since taking Lady Maiden on the road full time, and all the uncertainties as to the viability of the project as a way to make a living had melted away with tonight's rapturous reception. Amanda and Cara, as ever, were the first out of the shower and were laughing together as they cracked the first cold beer of the night. Cara took a long swallow, tilting her head right back and draining the bottle in one draught.

"Fucked if I can work out how you do that," grinned Amanda, taking a smaller swig of her own beer.

"Practice," snorted the drummer, tossing the bottle into the bin and cracking the top of another, "Christ, that one didn't even touch the sides."

"Know what you mean."

The small Japanese girl let out a thunderous belch, giggling when her friend rolled her eyes at her.

"Nice."

"It's my English half, I swear."

"Whatever."

Their two guitarists emerged, vigorously towelling their hair and dressed only in bathrobes at the same time as their manager knocked on the door.

"Are you decent?"

"Ish. Come on in, Lee, it's nothing you haven't seen before."

Their manager's cheerful round face appeared around the door. "Hey ladies! Got a surprise for you."

Janice groaned, shrugging out of her robe and beginning to put on her underwear. "I hate surprises. It better be a nice one."

Lee waited for her to slip her jeans on and do up her bra before he continued. It sure beats managing a lot of hairy bikers, he thought to himself happily as he watched the guitarists getting dressed and grabbing beers. "It is."

"Well?" snorted Amanda, chuckling at him, "are you going to tell us or just look at us, y'perv?"

"Gotta guest."

"Oh shit, not another one…who is it?"

"Steve Harris."

"Bullshit," snorted Cara, lifting her beer.

"No, really," laughed another voice, as another man elbowed his way past the rotund form of their manager, "I really am me."

"Shit!" Yelped Cara, spitting beer and getting it up her nose. Yells and laughter as everyone raised their hands to avoid getting soaked in the short sharp shower of beer. "Sorry guys," she added sheepishly, getting her sneezing and coughing fit under control with the help of their guest banging her between the shoulderblades. "Cheers Steve…I think."

"Well well well," grinned Janice, extending a hand, "good to see ya. Did you see the show?"

"I did," he replied, brown eyes alight with amusement, "enjoyed it too. And call me Harry - everyone else does."

"'Ave a beer, 'Arry," said Sarah, passing one over.

"Thanks. Tiger, huh?"

All fingers pointed at Cara.

"Hey! Just 'cos my dad imports the stuff…"

Steve's eyes hit his hairline. "Fucking hell, a beer importer? You married?"

Amanda slapped his arm. "Behave!"

"Who you got out there, y'dirty hooers?" Yelled a voice from the shower, obviously having heard the laughter. Steve cocked an eyebrow and Janice giggled, covering her mouth with a wicked look in her eyes.

"That," grinned Sarah, brushing blonde strands out of her eyes, "is our version of…well…you. Jane-Charlotte Taylor, known to us all as JC or Jase."

"Or 'fucking hell, what is it now?'" snorted Cara.

Amanda laughed, and called back to her friend. "We've got a guest."

"Who?"

"Steve Harris. THE Steve Harris."

Everyone waited for the response, rather breathlessly. The little Japanese leaned in to Steve's side. "She's had the hots for you for like, forever."

Steve turned to her, raising an eyebrow. He'd been admiring JC on stage; she had most of his moves down pat, even if it was a trifle unsettling seeing the striped leggings and tight t-shirts he used to favour filled so…ripely. He'd found his jeans getting tight at the thought a couple of times during the show; and he grinned evilly as Cara whispered the snippet of information to him.

"Really?" He murmured back. The drummer nodded, taking a swig of beer.

"Oh yeah."

The voice drifted out of the shower again.

"Bollocks he is. Send him in here, then!"

Amanda met Steve's eye, winked and waved him through. "You heard the lady."

"And never let it be said," he replied with a laugh, "that I would turn down a request like that."

He sneaked into the shower room, and the rest of the band waited for the screaming to start; when all they heard was a startled yelp followed by the sound of lowered voices talking then a naughty little giggle they looked at each other, astonished.

"You don't think -" began Sarah.

"Can't be," interrupted Amanda, looking across at Cara, "can they?"

"Thought he was married, myself," she answered her friend with a shrug.

"Yes," said Janice, laying one finger alongside her nose and smiling nastily, "but how married is the question here, I believe."

*

Relaxing under the spray of hot water, JC had heard some sort of commotion in the dressing room. Always the last out of the shower - she loved the feel of the hot water after a particularly sweaty show - she debated whether she could be bothered to find out what they could be so excited about. Well, not bothered enough to get out, she decided, so she hollered through instead.

On being told that Her Hero - capitalisation, even in the privacy of her own mind - was visiting, she snorted. The ladies, always up to something…and there was no way, she thought cynically, that he would bother to come out here for a show. So, gambling that whoever it actually was wouldn't dare, she told them to send him in and closed her eyes again, turning back to the spray. Ah, nothing like a good, long, hot shower…

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a man clearing his throat politely. Shaking her long, dark brown hair back, she wiped the water from her eyes, blinking furiously to get a glimpse of whoever had been brave enough to interrupt her.

She stared, struck dumb for a moment and forgetting that she was absolutely naked.

"Hey. Nice show."

She yelled suddenly, making him jump, then blushed as she crossed her arms over her breasts and closed her eyes. She heard him chuckle, and squinted one eye open a crack.

"I can still see you, JC. And I meant the show earlier…on stage, remember?"

She gave in, opened her eyes and propped both hands on her hips, smiling rather shyly at him. "Thanks. Er…"

He swallowed hard. He'd been expecting a naked woman; he was walking into a shower, for fuck's sake. What he hadn't been expecting was his reaction to her; he'd seen naked women before, lots of 'em. But this one…dark brown, wavy hair - similar to his own, he thought dreamily - plastered to her head, a stray curl falling over her forehead. Large, firm breasts, the nipples erect with, what? Excitement? Cold? Surrounded by the darker skin of her aureolae…and the wicked little glint of a ring in one of them. Oh my…

A narrow waist, wide hips and big, muscular looking thighs with a cute little triangle of brown hair between them, then down to shapely legs and small feet before travelling back up and noticing a belly ring right where you would expect it. 

He only realised that he'd been checking her out very obviously when she laughed at him softly, opening her arms wide and cocking her head at him.

"Like what you see?"

He blushed, and she giggled naughtily, which only made him blush harder.

Turning off the water and stepping into him before locking her hands behind her back, she stood close enough to him that her nipples just touched his t-shirt, leaving two small circular wet patches. She grinned at him mischievously, hazel eyes sparkling.

"Y'know, I'd always heard you were the quiet one. And you know what they say…"

He cleared his throat quietly. He could smell her; clean, warm, wet woman standing so close to him he could almost taste her. He didn't dare move; she would either spot his enormous hardon or he'd just explode. Especially if she didn't stop rubbing those hard little peaks against his chest. "It's always the quiet ones you've gotta watch," he replied, with a small smile, still desperately trying to control himself.

She flicked her eyes over his shoulder, and her cheeky smile widened. "C'mere," she whispered, and suddenly pulled him into a deep, hot kiss as her bandmates peered around the corner, exploding into a riot of whistles and shouts. His hands slipped around her waist, and he had to fight the urge to pull her more tightly into his body. After all, he thought wildly, he didn't want to get any wetter. Hot…wet…aaargh!

"Put him down, girl, you don't know where he's been!"

"Shee-yit Jase, you don't hang about do ya?"

"Fucking hell, and you say we're bad?"

"Go girl!" Yelled Cara, hooting with laughter.

JC broke the kiss and stepped back, winking at the startled - and incredibly turned on - bassist. Moving around him, she trailed one wet hand over his chest and down to the very obvious bulge in his jeans, leaving it there long enough to leave a big wet patch. He began to shake with laughter as she winked again, then left the shower room with a quick, "cheers Steve."

He folded his arms and kept his back firmly to the giggling women, willing his erection to subside.

"Leave 'im alone," roared a voice from the dressing room, and with a last chorus of whoops the women tumbled back to question their friend.

Steve leaned against the wall, and laughed.

*

By the time he emerged from the shower she was dressed, and was drying her long hair with a towel.

"Hey Steve," she smiled, "I guess the others have told you, but I'm JC, or Jase."

"Don't call her Jane," added Sarah, wide eyed with innocence. JC threw the towel at her. "Or Jaynie, she really hates that," laughed the guitarist, before ducking behind Amanda's tall frame, flashing wicked blue eyes at her friend.

JC just laughed, and held out her hand for Steve to shake. "Since we didn't get properly acquainted in there…"

He shook her hand, twisting his mouth into a half smile as Cara snorted at them. "Looked pretty fucking friendly to me, right ladies?"

"Anyway," JC continued, over the noises of general merriment from her friends, "we were going to find a curry then crash at the hotel. Wanna come? You can let go, by the way."

"Looks like he already did," snickered Janice.

Steve gave himself a shake before dropping JC's hand like he'd been burned. He'd been surprised at the strength of her grip; he supposed he shouldn't have been, really, considering the fact that she made a living playing the same instrument he did. Her grip was as firm and callused as his own, for similar reasons, he supposed.

"Your best bet for a curry is back at the hotel," said their manager apologetically. "Considering this is a University town you'd think more stuff would be open late, wouldn't you?"

Groans from the band.

"Where you all staying?" Steve asked.

"Crowne Plaza. Posh place just over the road…at least management sprung for a decent hotel this time." Amanda shook a finger at their manager, who just flipped her the finger in return.

"Yeah, you should see some of the rat pits we've had to stay in…" said Janice, shaking her head. Steve snorted.

"I know what you mean. Well, that's where I am too; shall we?"

"Good idea," said Amanda, standing up and slinging a bag over her shoulder. "Oi, Lee, are there any fans out there tonight?"

The little man looked up from the clipboard he'd been scribbling on. "A few, I think. Not many; it's bloody cold out there."

"Good," said Jase, leaving the room first, "'cos I'm bloody hot."

_You certainly are,_ thought Steve to himself as he followed her rounded ass out of the venue, _you most certainly are_.

*

They spent a pleasant few minutes signing programmes, posing for photographs and quietly chatting with the few hardy souls who had braved the gently falling snow and bitter temperatures to greet their heroines. Steve stood back, not exactly unwilling to be recognised but not wanting to steal the girl's thunder. What surprised him most was that - once the fans realised he was there - they seemed to want his attention rather less than that of the women. Except that there were quite a few requests for pictures of both he and JC with individual fans; as he overheard one of the young men saying to another, "hey, I got both bassists in one! How cool is that?"

He had to contain his laughter, however, when the reply was: "Yeah, but I only want to sleep with one of 'em. And it ain't the bloke."

He chuckled slightly, and fell into step beside JC as they all made their way across to the hotel, a short stroll away.

"So," she said to him eventually, once the others had drawn ahead a little, "what brings you to Cambridge?"

"Oh, you know…business."

"Ah."

He linked his arm through hers, and they walked a little slower. He watched her tilt her head up and stick her tongue out, trying to catch a snowflake; the expression on her face was so happy and relaxed that he got a sudden urge to kiss her far, far more seriously than he had back in the shower.

He must have tightened his grip on her, because she turned to him with a slight smile.

"What?"

"You look so…happy."

"I'm playing silly buggers in the snow with my favourite musician after a blinding show. What's not to be happy about?"

He cocked his head and snorted. "Sounds very simple."

She pulled him closer, and leaned into him as they approached the doors to the hotel. "Happiness doesn't have to be complicated," she told him with a solemn wink, then led the way into the brightly lit hotel lobby. Shaking his head again, he followed her.

*

It had been unanimously decided that they would dump their gear and gather in Steve's room, it being the largest; some negotiation with the hotel's kitchen staff had produced a curry of gigantic proportions, complete with naan breads, pickles, chutneys…the complete works. Expressing their amazement at the speed with which said meal was produced, Steve just grinned smugly.

"Why do you think we always stay here?" He asked, with a grin.

Before long, they were ranged about the sitting area of Steve's suite, consuming cold beer and hot curry in roughly equal proportions, telling off-colour stories about life on the road and generally relaxing after a busy few nights.

"So, what did you all used to do before you started the band?" He asked them, when the conversation hit a natural lull.

"I was a student," replied Cara with a loud belch. The others threw cushions at her, making her giggle and roll behind the sofa, still laughing.

"You can't tell, can you?" Asked Amanda wryly. "I was a civil servant, believe it or not. Did a bit of singing in a few bands…"

"Which is where she met me," grinned Janice, curled up on the end of the sofa. "I did a bit of this, a bit of that…a lot of bar and waitress jobs while I tried to make the guitar stuff pay."

"I was an accountant," smiled Sarah, shyly.

"No shit?"

"And I was a nurse," finished JC. "We all met up through the internet, believe it or not. Figured out we had a lot in common, then that we all lived pretty close to each other…certain ideas began to occur as soon as we got together. A little practising…"

"And Lady Maiden was born," Amanda grinned, raising her beer in salute.

Cara stretched and yawned, emerging from behind the sofa. "Hey ladies. I'm for my pit…"

"Me too," said Janice, cuffing Amanda on the shoulder lightly. "Come on ladies. Let's leave these two to…talk bass, or whatever it is that bassists do when they're alone."

"Make more bassists?" suggested Cara, earning her a groan from the others.

"Horrible thought!" laughed Sarah, and before Steve or JC could say a word they were gone, charging down the corridor toward their own rooms like a gang of kids let out of school early. The two looked at each other for a moment, stunned.

"That was easy," she said, before she'd actually thought about the words. Steve's eyebrows shot up, and to her chagrin she began to blush.

"I mean…"

He laughed, and began to pile the plates haphazardly on the table. "Don't worry. I know what you mean…I think."

He approached her where she sat on the sofa; sitting in the space so recently vacated by the redheaded guitarist he made himself comfortable, watching the slight apprehension in her eyes.

She covered her eyes with her hands, still blushing furiously.

"God," she sighed, "I feel like such a tart. I should go -"

Leaning in to her, he allowed his lips to gently skim across hers, his hands holding hers gently but firmly as he moved them away from her face, as though he didn't want to frighten her.

"Steve -"

"Shhhh," he murmured, "you said happiness didn't have to be complicated, remember?"

She swallowed hard, then seemed to relax as she sighed. "True," she whispered, "but will this make you happy?"

He sat back a little, and looked solemnly into her warm hazel eyes. "I think so."

She smiled, wryly. "That's something other than an unqualified yes."

He moved toward her once more, and captured her lips with his own before lifting a hand to stroke through her glossy brown waves, stroking and smoothing before cupping the back of her head and pressing himself into her. She moaned quietly as his tongue gently explored her mouth, teasing her own before stroking across teeth and cheeks then returning to tangle slowly with her own tongue, smoothly setting a slow and sensual pace. 

When they finally broke apart she was breathing hard, pupils dilated and a full, hot feeling between her thighs making her squirm in her seat. She took a deep breath, and watched the soft skin at the corner of his eyes crinkle slightly in amusement as he smiled at her; she let it out, long and slow, then smiled back at him.

"Well," she replied quietly, "if that's a taster of what's to come, so to speak, I think it could make me happy."

"Good," he told her, then moved forward to kiss her again. This time, she felt his hand stroke up her back, making small circles on the sensitive skin between her shoulderblades; she broke off to arch her back and lean into him, losing herself in the gentle, almost tickling sensation. Feeling her firm breasts rub against his chest as she arched and sighed, he had to grit his teeth; it just felt…almost too good.

Lowering his head but continuing with the gentle circling of her spine he began to kiss at her neck, collarbones, any area of flesh his increasingly hot mouth could reach; suddenly stiffening herself, she leaned back from him and gripped his shoulders, hard.

He widened his eyes in surprise, wondering what he'd done wrong; noting his expression she chuckled, a little breathlessly, and shook her head.

"No, you haven't done anything wrong. But…if we don't take this to the bedroom and I mean right now, then we're both going to explode right here on the couch like a couple of horny teenagers."

Nodding silently, he took her hand, lifting it to kiss gently across the back of the knuckles. She groaned again, and rose rather unsteadily to her feet.

"Bed. Now."

Standing, he led her to the bedroom; almost completely dark but by the light of one tiny side lamp she could just make out the large bed, crisply made and gleaming palely in the darkness as though the chambermaid had just left. Hesitating on the threshold, he turned to her, hand still firmly gripping hers.

"I like the dark. It seems more…comfortable."

Cocking an eyebrow, she gave in to his gentle pressure and followed him in, sitting herself down on the edge of the enormous bed and leaning back, hands supporting her weight as she looked up at him. Standing before her, he pulled his shirt off over his head; she sucked in a breath as the smooth planes of his body were revealed, along with the light covering of dark hairs that highlighted the curves and lines of his muscles, before intensifying into a slender trail that merely hinted at the pleasures hidden beneath the denim covering of his faded jeans.

"You've been working out."

"Good of you to notice."

She touched him, running her hands over his flanks and down to his hips, sliding her fingers around the inside of the waistband of his jeans, feeling the trembling of taut muscles as he clenched his fists and let his head fall back, his hair flowing behind him like a dark waterfall, stroking the backs of her hands as she worked them gently up his back then down again. Moving to perch on the edge of the bed she carefully began to unbutton the denim covering, kissing at his stomach, breathing into the soft hairs there and smelling his musky heat before licking a trail along the shadowed darkness. He hissed as she carefully peeled the jeans away from his hips, and couldn't help but gasp a brief laugh at the appreciative noise she made when she discovered his habit of going commando.

Allowing his hands to tangle in her soft waves, highlighted dimly in the soft glow with a shimmer of gold, he concentrated on controlling his breathing as she followed the path of his jeans down with her mouth, kissing her way along his hips and down, closer then harder before driving an animal's cry from him as her mouth closed over his trembling heat. Shifting to the floor, she kept sliding her mouth over him - teasing, tasting, working magic with tongue and gentle suction - while she rolled his jeans to the floor. Blindly he lifted one foot at a time, helping her remove his clothing until he stood gloriously, darkly naked in front of her; spreading his legs wider he moaned softly as she drove him higher, closer…then gasped as she suddenly lifted away from him and stood.

"God, you're gorgeous," she murmured, looking deep into eyes a shade darker than her own, feeling the heat of his breath on her face as she pressed her body against his and moved in to kiss him. He took her face in both hands, nuzzling into her gently before taking her mouth in a kiss almost brutal in it's intensity; taking her into his arms he pulled her into him until their bodies ground together, pulsing with want and need until they were both gasping with the power of the feeling.

Fingers trembling, he had to help her shed her own clothing; she couldn't have managed it for herself, her mind was so far out of her body . Eventually, her clothes joined his in the untidy heap beside the bed, and he took her carefully in his arms as he guided her down onto the soft surface where they could press their bodies against each other, no more barriers between them and all defences, finally, down.

The friction between them threatened to scorch them both; the soft smoothness of her pale skin writhing against the harder planes of his darker flesh drove them both to a place neither had experienced before and they moaned like beasts with the power of it. Lifting himself on his arms, he looked down at her flushed face, swollen lips slightly parted and eyes glittering darkly as she looked up at him. Bending once more, he began to nuzzle his face into the warm softness of her breasts; lying back she wrapped her arms around the back of his head and moaned as he stimulated her almost to the point of no return just by kissing, licking, sucking, loving her soft white mounds and using his teeth to tease even greater sensation from their stiffly erect centres.

With one movement he was above her again, kissing her hard even as he panted for the control that was threatening to elude him with every passing moment.

"Can't wait," he gasped, positioning himself to enter her soaking heat.

"Then don't," she growled in return, pulling him into another searing kiss as he thrust into her with one smooth movement of his hips. She cried out into his mouth, raking her nails along his back then digging her fingers into his muscular ass, pulling him deeper into her even as she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him on with voice and pressure.

Arching and curving his back, feeling the sweat running from his sides and mingling with the musky scent of the woman writhing beneath him, he closed his eyes and flung his head back the better to feel the grip and slide of her muscles closing around him; the sweet, wet silk of her sliding along him and the sound of her cries as her body began to tremble with approaching climax.

"Oh…oh gods…Steve…"

Diving down to her, he wrapped his arms around her back and buried his face into the angle of her neck, feeling her arms clench around his shoulders and her heels dig into his buttocks he began to make feral noises in his throat, barely recognisable as words.

Driving his hips forward powerfully he felt the trembling become a torrent of clenching, gripping heat that flowed over and through him, her wails of agonised ecstasy mingling with his hoarser cries as they achieved completion together. Clutching each other and still breathing with spasmodic gasps they rolled to their sides, still twined together and shivering with the rolling aftershocks that tore through them and back, whiplash of heat and sensation echoing through minds and bodies.

Eventually, their breathing began to slow and the shaking calmed to the occasional tremor. Finally able to fill his lungs, Steve dipped his head and began to cover his lover's face with small kisses; she relaxed onto her back, leaving her legs tangled with his even as she allowed her eyes to drift shut and drew a deep, shuddering breath.

"Bloody hell," she whispered, awed at the power of her orgasm.

"Mmm," agreed Steve, nestling his head between her breasts and listening to her heartbeat.

Curled against each other, they drifted into a light doze as the sweat dried on their exhausted bodies.

*

A deep, thrilling sound vibrating along her nerve endings gently stirred JC from her sleep. Blinking quickly, trying to clear her eyes it took her a moment to identify the source of it; to her surprise she saw Steve sitting cross legged on the end of the bed, cradling an acoustic bass in his lap and playing softly. Turning herself to watch him, she saw him glance up at her and smile, aware of her watchfulness but never stopping his playing.

She waited until he finished the piece, the last deep notes shivering away into nothingness.

"That was…beautiful."

He nodded, and carefully put the instrument down beside the bed before stretching out beside her again. They lay on their sides, facing each other; stretching out a hand he gently trailed his fingertips along her shoulder, tracing with quiet intensity along the curves of waist and hip before gently stroking back along. Shuddering under the quiet touch she closed her eyes, sighing gently at the sensation of slow fire his contact stirred within her body.

"I came here to write," he said softly, and she opened her eyes to see him watching her carefully, deep brown eyes shadowed with emotion. She nodded slowly, linking her gaze with his even as her hand reached across the space between them to soothe across the skin of his hip and come to rest at his waist. He smiled at her a little. "There's too much going on at home, so I just picked a place…and went. I needed some space and time; I'd been here a couple of days when I walked past the Corn Exchange and saw the flyer for your show. I thought it might be interesting to see what you guys did with our stuff."

"I guess you liked it," she replied, moving her fingers across the warmth of his skin. He nodded.

"Yeah. It was a bit of a revelation…"

She chuckled throatily at his choice of words. "And what are the chances, hmm? Of you just happening to be here the same time as us."

He moved in to her and kissed her lightly. "Fate? Luck? Karma?" He asked, between gentle contacts.

She shivered, feeling the heat beginning to rise in her again. Nuzzling her face gently into his, feeling the roughness of his cheek against her she sighed softly before she spoke.

"I'm not expecting anything, you know. After tonight, I mean. If you're worried -"

He silenced her with a kiss, then began to move his mouth along the line of her jaw and down her neck to her shoulder. "I know," he murmured into the soft musk of her skin, "don't ask me how I know…but I know."

She dropped her head back and gasped at the sensations his gentle mouth was reawakening in her body. "You're a dark one you are, Harry. Is that what I heard you playing, then? The piece you came here to write?"

"Mmmm," he said, closing his mouth over her pierced nipple and gently tugging on the ring with his teeth. She cried out again, allowing him to roll her over and lose himself in her warm, willing depths once more.

*

By the time the five women met up again on their bus Steve and JC had said their goodbyes; there had been no promises made, no ties to bind or be broken. Just a lingering sense of…happiness, and a little wistful wondering about what might have been. Cara leaned over the back of her seat and met JC's eyes with her own, a mischievous twinkle in their depths.

"So what was he like?"

"Who?"

The four women groaned at their friend, and she laughed lightly. "Like I'm going to go into details. Dream on, my friends."

"Oh, come on," smirked Janice, elbowing her friend and flashing her green eyes with amusement, "throw us a bone."

"OK," and Jase seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. "We worked on a piece of music," she said finally.

"Awww!"

"Hush. That's all you're getting. Now, where are we playing tonight?"

And with that, they had to be content.

*

Some time later, deep into the recording of their new album, Bruce approached Steve. He'd tucked himself away in a corner with his acoustic bass, quietly playing an unfamiliar air over and over; obviously working on something, it seemed to be bothering him to the point he couldn't share it with the others. Normally if a piece was giving them any trouble they would bring it to the rest of the band; Steve clearly wanted to work on this piece alone.

"Something up, mate?"

He folded his hands on the shoulder of the guitar he was holding, resting his chin on the top of them with his eyes far away.

"I dunno, really…I've got this melody, but I'm not sure what to do with it."

Bruce watched his friend for a moment, a small smile tugging at his mouth. He knew something had happened during Steve's short hiatus away from them; he had been more relaxed on his return, happier, somehow.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Finally looking his friend in the eye, he smiled rather shyly before telling Bruce about JC, and Lady Maiden. By the time he'd finished the rest of the band had crowded round and all five men were staring at him with something akin to awe.

"Bloody 'ell, 'Arry," grinned Nicko.

Steve looked pained. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't let this slip to the missus."

Mumbles of agreement from them all. Bruce shrugged. "Nah, don't worry about it. So go on then, play us the piece she…'inspired' you with."

"Yeah," grinned Nicko, "then give us her phone number."

Shaking his head at his taller friend, Steve began to play the piece that JC had heard a portion of, that night after their first lovemaking session; he'd expanded and lengthened it, and the melody wove around his friends and filled the studio with it's sweet, melancholy sound. 

Dave blinked his blue eyes, stunned. "Wow. Even for you, mate, that's deep."

"Few guitars at the front, add some depth to it…" Adrian cocked an eyebrow at Steve, "yeah?"

"'Bout time we did another instrumental," grinned Bruce. Steve nodded and smiled, unaccountably relieved that the band were being so supportive; looked like the piece might be a goer, after all.

*

"Hey guys," grinned Jase, dumping her bag on the table. Lady Maiden had gathered in a small studio in Reading to record a demo; their fans had been clamouring for some sort of recording of the girl's unique take on the Iron's music and they had finally decided to give it to them. The CD would be sold at their gigs, and through their website; they'd asked the band's management and the boys themselves and had received their official blessing for the project. The ladies management company had then booked the studio, and all five women were enjoying the change of pace the studio time was giving them.

"Wassup Jase?" Yawned Amanda, over her first coffee of the morning. JC waved a CD at them.

"Got this in the post this morning. Iron Maiden's new album…"

All four of her band mates were instantly awake, clamouring for her to put the CD on. She grinned, located a player and slipped the disc inside; as she did so, she passed the note that had come with the small package to her friends.

Janice read it aloud. "'Thought you might like a sneak preview of the new album. This is still a rough cut; I'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourselves! All the best, Harry. P.S. Listen to track six. That one's for you, Jase. P.P.S. See you lot on the road sometime."

"Oooooh," whooped the girls, as their bassist blushed. Giving in to their clamouring, she skipped the track listing forward to the sixth track and they settled down to listen.

The sound of Steve's acoustic bass drifted from the speakers, playing the melody JC had heard once before; guitars joined it, softly at first but building in tempo and intensity. Joined by the drums, the lyricless piece wove and ran, changing tempo and tone but always returning to that same, soulful measure that had been inspired by their one blissful night together. The sound faded from the speakers, and Amanda reached forward and hit the pause button before looking at her friend.

She stared off into space, smiling slightly.

"Bloody hell, Jase," whispered Sarah.

"What's it called?" Asked Cara.

JC looked at the hand written track listing on the CD cover. "'Four String Fantasy'," she replied quietly, and smiled.

"Yeah. You never told us he was that good," sighed Janice softly.

"So," and Amanda looked at her friend with amusement in her eyes, "how do you feel about it?"

Jase turned the note over in her hands for a moment.

"I think," she said, running the memory back in her mind, "I feel pretty happy about it."

_~~Fin~~_


End file.
